Placing the Blame
by Serori-kun
Summary: Post-game Vincent reflects on his sins, and who is really at fault


WARNINGS: Spoiler warning, mostly for Vincent's past and for the fates of Aeris, Sephiroth, and Hojo, and Red XIII's real name (if it counts as a spoiler), and pretty much anything else that would have to be associated with a post-game fic. Also makes use of the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's biological father. Slight gore. (This IS Hojo we're talking about.)  
  
Vincent Valentine POV, post-game.   
  
  
  
**PLACING THE BLAME**  
  
  
It's been a long time, a lifetime, since Meteor and Shinra, since Aeris' sacrifice and Sephiroth's fall, and all the other tragedies for which I believed I was, in some way or another, responsible. But, as I said, this was a long time ago.   
  
I've had time to think.  
  
I don't blame myself for what happened to me. Not anymore. I was careless when I confronted Hojo; this is true. But he didn't have to kill me, experiment on me, or give me this hideous metallic prosthesis. We could have settled it like men.  
  
What happened to Lucrecia wasn't my fault. I have to accept that, knowing what I do now. Even if she and I hadn't spent that night together, even if I hadn't loved her, even if... even if I hadn't been involved, she still would have volunteered for the Jenova project. She still would have allowed Hojo to inject her with Jenova cells, expose her to Mako... I don't think she realized exactly what was going on.  
  
But what happened to Sephiroth...  
  
That was my fault.  
  
It was my fault Sephiroth came into this world, and I didn't even realize it until it was too late, while I was on the operating table. Those words, those images... Burned into my mind and what soul I have left.  
  
*******  
  
"He's doing splendidly, Valentine. Very healthy, and quite intelligent for a child his age."  
  
My eyes were blurry. I could barely make out his short, skinny frame. Only the white lab coat distinguished him from the blackness in which he so comfortably lurked.  
  
"Who....where...?..Luc..."  
  
I hadn't known someone like Hojo could slap a man's teeth loose.  
  
"Don't dare say her name, Turk."  
  
I smirked. He called me 'Turk' when I was being irritable. Or irritating. In fact, he'd never called me anything else.  
  
The light from the dirty flourescent lamp set his grimy, filmy round lenses glowing with a cold, distinctly predatory sheen. He smiled with his vindictive little animal teeth and let his words slide from his serpent's tongue. "You must be very proud. Your son is my greatest creation."  
  
I would have said something if I had been capable of it, so I stared at him, mentally urging him to continue. I don't have a son, what are you talking about, Mad Doctor?  
  
"You've been unconsious for several months. I must say it was Hell to revive you from death."  
  
Well, yes, I would imagine that God is not an easy game to win....  
  
While I puzzled over my state of non-death, Hojo walked over to his desk and pulled out what he referred to as his "notes"; a mini-taperecorder and a spiral notebook that looked as soiled and abused as anything else around him..  
  
His voice was cool and even, almost sane if you weren't listening. "Day One of the Valentine Project. Subject is male, six feet tall, excellent physical condition. No previous exposure to Mako or Jenova cells. Lineage and birthplace unknown, possibly Wutaiian. A former member of the Administrative Research department of Shinra, membership of said department terminated , at my request, for insubordination. A series of tests will be performed on the subject, specific number of tests unknown." Here, he paused.   
  
"Test One: I will expose subject to contaminated Mako. Hypothetically, the Mako showers being tested for use in SOLDIER--"  
  
I stopped listening after that. My head ached and I felt nauseous, so I lay there and tried to focus on anything but what was happening; to me, to Lucrecia, to my- our son, whoever he was.  
  
I must have fallen asleep, because when I was next aware of what was going on around me, my body tingled, like hot water was coursing through my veins in place of blood.  
  
"......has not responded to treatment as expected. Large tissue samples are necessary. Samples will include: blood, bone, all layers of skin, muscle, nerve, hair, fingernail, tendon, ligament. Least difficult method of acquisition will be to remove the forearm." His voice was still smooth as glass, despite the gruesome 'notes' he had just confided into the microphone.  
  
"What...what are you doing?...."  
  
I heard the obscenely loud click of the tape recorder as sallow, bony fingers turned it off. "You've found your voice. Excellent."  
  
"Answer me."  
  
"Very well. Sephiroth is maturing at a phenomenal rate. He is eleven months old, speaks in complete sentences, and can walk almost as well as the average five-year-old. These traits were never exhibited by any other lifeform exposed to Mako or Jenova. I want to test a theory: Sephiroth's growth rate is hereditary. While it is impossible for a normal human being to mature that quickly, it may have come from your genetic coding and then been enhanced by Mako and/or Jenova cell exposure. By removing your forearm, I will examine your DNA and any genetic anomalies you may have that may be linked to Sephiroth's development, and I will determine whether or not these anomalies will be significant in his training in SOLDIER. Does that answer your quesetion?"  
  
I started to really be afraid then. Before it didn't matter; I was a Turk, a killer for hire. The woman I loved was dead, I didn't have a family. Dead or alive, I didn't matter.  
  
But now I had a son. Somewhere out there I had a son, a tiny little life I'd helped create, being raised by people who cared for nothing but his potential as a weapon...  
  
What was going to happen to little Sephiroth if no one helped him? What would they do to him?  
  
I spat my disgust on the already filthy stone floor, straining against the clamps and straps securing me to the table. "DAMN YOU, SIMON, LET ME GO!"  
  
After that, I was awake for the rest of the treatments.  
  
*************  
  
In the end I never got away; the next time I saw another human face it was that of Cloud, and the rest is history. I blamed myself for Lucrecia and Hojo's deeds, and that.. that was incorrect. They suffered for their sins, and in Hojo's case I made sure of it myself. I haven't suffered enough. I don't think I ever will.  
  
I fought and helped kill my son.  
  
I can't forgive myself for that.  
  
And what am I going to do now? It's been a hundred years since then, give or take a few. I stopped counting after Cid passed away. He died at the ripe old age of eighty-three, asleep in the Highwind. I've outlived them all, except possibly Nanaki, and I don't want to get to know their children. I look in on them from time to time, of course, I owe them that much. But I never interfere.  
  
I'm obviously not going to die anytime soon, I can't even kill myself. I tried. It hurt. And when I woke up I was dusty and grimy but I was alive and in perfect health.  
  
So I'm going to use eternity on this Planet to atone for my sins, make use of the demons inside me. Because someday, maybe an eternity from now, there will be another Shinra. There will be another Hojo. There will be another Sephiroth. The demon will destroy that Shinra. This demon will kill its Hojo. I'll save the next bloody-winged angel.  
  
I can't change what has happened, but I'll make sure it never happens again.  
  



End file.
